


ten thousand jelly beans

by shakeit_dontbreakit



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: 2park, Gen, cameraman woojin, fluff?, i tripped into the onghwang hole and im never coming out, jeopardy! au why tf not, lets call it romcom, soft aggressive nerd jihoon, w1 ensemble because i love juggling ma boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakeit_dontbreakit/pseuds/shakeit_dontbreakit
Summary: One of the best parts about working atJeopardy!Koreais, well, working atJeopardy!Korea.Sure, Woojin might not be living up to his cinematographic potential with such an easy gig as Cameraman 2, but then how else could he have met such a violent flower nerd as Park Jihoon?





	1. what is... cannibalism?

**Author's Note:**

> look forward to a mess, but one of those hilarious messes like a puppy pile or wanna one
> 
> it's okay if you don't know jeopardy, so here's a [sexy taste](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJO7hcinS-U) of what its all about. also just watch that clip anyway, its gold
> 
> disclaimer: i have never been on or worked for jeopardy or worked with studio cameras or in a tv studio nothing none of it i clearly dont even know how intercom systems work. my bad if somethings offensively incorrect

 

Five episodes. One day. Welcome to backstage of  _Jeopardy!Korea_.

It's a bustling studio, especially when you take into account they film only two days a week but each time they get enough footage for a week's worth of shows. If  _Jeopardy!_ felt fast-paced when watched from home, it's really nothing compared to the high-octane backstage flurry. For an entire day, the set of  _Jeopardy!Korea_ is like a beehive someone kicked. 

Park Woojin has manned Studio Camera 2 for a solid year now. That’s enough time to have both spectacularly messed up (twice, with one resulting in a visit from the fire department) and to have had many (many) shots of tequila with their famous host Ong Seongwoo. Woojin may not get to stretch the limits of his cinematography talents as he might prefer but he _does_ walk out of the studio each time knowing quite a bit more about 19th Century Japan or Words With “Insta” In Them, and that's not too shabby of a takeaway. 

As one of two camera operators on staff, Woojin had to be in well before dawn today. If you’re going to fit five episodes worth of material in one day while still treating the staff and contestants as human beings, you really have no choice but to set aside as much time onsite prior to filming as possible. Contingencies must be arranged for, adjustments must be made, and then there are the dry runs for testing lighting cues object tracking speeds.

 _Jeopardy!Korea_ boasts a spacious, charmingly retro set, open for the most part, with most of the space being taken up by the audience seating and the stage itself. There’s little space for Woojin to actually move with his camera rigging, so for the most part he stays put in his spot right off stage left. With the other camera station mirroring his position off stage right and the trivia judge panel just off the edge of center stage, Woojin wouldn't even think about pulling off a simple dolly zoom, let alone manage any dynamic pedestal shot.

With fifteen minutes to go before filming the first of today’s five episodes, Woojin hums tunelessly as he absentmindedly adjusts the brightness of his camera monitors. The stage is set, he has already double-checked every cord that’s supposed to be plugged in, and the illustrious Ong Seongwoo is going through his noisy and hilarious vocal warm ups at his host podium, occasionally shooting an obnoxious wink or double-gun gesture at the judges panel. 

This is all perfectly normal for a Saturday shoot, nothing out of the ordinary has happened so far, unless you count the two new gluten-free options included in their usual backstage food spread. So, really, today is just an updated normal. 

Finally satisfied with his personal screen settings, Woojin slips on his black intercom headset and hops into the staff frequency during a very strange point in a very strange conversation.

 _“—ourse I see the value in nixing the prostitution taboo.”_ Yoon Jisung is in the middle of musing thoughtfully. His voice is a bit fuzzy over the headset but it’s clearly him. _“If you legalize and regulate the sex industry, you can tax it, and my god, the tax revenue alone..."_

Surprisingly, conversations like this also get categorized under  _Normal Saturday Shoot._

With a sudden sharp laugh that could only come from one Lai Guanlin, _“Right, right! And that's not even to mention the potential to reduce crime and actually create a safer industry as a whole. Also, like, think about the public health benef—"_

“ _—_ Okay, okay.” Woojin interjects, wondering if they can hear his smile through his voice. “What’s the game here?”

He speaks softly, crouching into his camera rig to avoid disrupting ongoing boom mic calibrations a meter away from his position. Jisung and Guanlin both laugh over the line, and Woojin casts his eyes around the set and backstage for a glimpse of either of them even though intellectually he’s aware they’re not supposed to be here anyway. Right now they should be waiting to lead the first three contestants to their doom.

 _“Ah, Woojin-hyung!”_ Chirps Guanlin. _“One of the first contestants today kinda edged us into a thought experiment.”_

 _“‘If you could eliminate any taboo, what would it be?’”_ Quotes Jisung.

 _“What taboo would YOU eschew, Woojin-hyung?”_ Someone else is on the line, his voice pretty and pleasant. Woojin only has to lean back slightly and turn his head to the left to catch the eye of the speaker.

Lee Daehwi lounges at the judge's table with that practically trademarked sweet 'n sassy attitude, his elbow on the table with his cheek resting neatly in his palm. He raises an eyebrow at Woojin, who takes this opportunity to dramatically roll his eyes directly at the younger man.

“No one uses eschew in speech you weirdo.” Woojin bats at his longtime friend.

 _“I said it because it rhymes you moron.”_ Daehwi bites back.

With a single long-suffering sigh, Jisung manages to pause their weekly play fight. _“I think we’re running out of good answers by now.”_

 _“What, hyung, you didn’t like ‘Eliminate the stigma against grave robbing?’”_ Guanlin drawls.

_“I did not, in fact.”_

“Cannibalism.” Woojin suddenly says, confident in his answer. He even nods to himself. No one speaks over the line for a whole two seconds before they all start talking at once.

_“—hat! Same—” “—h wow, similar values I supp—” “—even said it just as directl—”_

Woojin again leans slightly back from his position to peer at Daehwi. They’re too far away to actually hear each other and he watches Daehwi’s lips move and hears the accompanying sounds only through the intercom. The sense of disconnect is slightly jarring. “Ah, ah, okay, can’t we just go one at a time?”

 _“It’s nothing at all, you just had the same answer as the contestant.”_ Jisung clears up, and Woojin can definitely hear him smiling.

 _“Same inflection too.”_ Guanlin adds, probably smiling as well.

Daehwi is just laughing, which is also smiling.

“Which contestant was it?” Woojin asks, getting back into position and testing out the zoom dial on his handset for the tenth time.

 _“Park Jihoon, the—ah! We’ve been summoned to our duties. Guanlinie let’s get ready to unruffle some feathers! To my two favorite children working hard on set: Believe in your strengths because I do, and I’m no fool. It is now T-minus ten minutes until ‘doo dee doo do do doo dee doo~’”_ Jisung ends singing the _Jeopardy!_ theme song and after they both bid farewell Woojin hears two little clicks signaling Guanlin and Jisung disconnecting from the channel.

Yoon Jisung is their unstoppable contestant coordinator — his main job is to ensure that the actual participants have a good time playing the game. This isn’t as easy as it sounds. Many of the contestants are naturally disinclined towards the spotlight, or, you know, feel vaguely uncomfortable talking to anybody.

For now, Lai Guanlin’s role is something of a Question Mark. He shadows a different staff member each filming day but he’s particularly inclined towards the duties of the judges panel. But today Guanlin is learning the ropes of what he once described as _‘the absurdly overqualified butler’_ with Jisung. The job is basically to look after the contestants from start to finish. Hand-hold them, as it were. Woojin doesn’t really think Guanlin can project an aura of safety like Jisung (no one can) considering he’s more or less a baby deer that only just got the hang of using his legs.

But Woojin _will_ admit there’s something disarmingly sweet about their youngest staff member, an effect he’s seen in the wild. People tend to fall into one of two categories: 1) those who can relate to Guanlin’s honest, youthful ingenuity, and 2) those who feel an instantaneous and powerful desire to protect him as they would their own child. 

On the flip side of that coin is Jisung: the one that can relate _to other people._  Going farther than predicting needs and breaking the ice, Jisung has something of an innate ability to mirror the mood and tone of the people he’s with. Like something of an emotional sponge, embracing the feelings of others and then squeezing them back to them in a way that hopefully raises their self-esteem, sometimes if only for a minute.

Woojin slips off his headset but keeps it hanging around his neck for easy access, rubbing at his ears and stretching in place. It's a stationary job, which is perhaps the most difficult aspect for him. No need (or space) to jump around and stretch out his legs as he is wont to do. In the middle of reaching down to his toes, his nose itches and he has to back away from his camera rig to sneeze. 

Muted words buzz incoherently out of the headphones resting on his collarbone — he forgot to actually disconnect from the channel. He quickly and sloppily fixes them back on his head. “Whadja you say?”

It was Daehwi, who sighs deeply before repeating himself. _“I_ said _'bless you, hyung', but I take it back."_

"Oh no, don't do thaaaat." Woojin whines quietly. 

 _"Anyway, I think th—"_ Daehwi is inturrupted by Woojin sneezing again. "— _is should be an entertaining match.”_

“What makes you say that?" Woojin continues with all the nonchalance of a young man who didn't just sneeze twice.

Daehwi waits for a moment, as though convinced he's going to sneeze again. _“Our returning champ is comfortable with the game by now, plus he’s just a funny guy. And then the people he’s up against are really charismatic in completely different ways."_

“Like... how?”

 _“You’ll see.”_ Woojin doesn’t need to check to know Daehwi is smirking.

It’s true that Jisung probably doesn’t have to hand-hold today’s returning champion, a soft-eyed goofball musician named Jeong Sewoon. He earned his last two wins not by betting big but by letting the other two contestants wager too much. Sewoon is a bit of a slow-burn player, never revving up until the middle of Double _Jeopardy!_ but he does has a pretty good track record of sniffing out Daily Doubles.

Woojin doesn’t care much for his playing style (he finds it conservative and a bit passionless) but Sewoon is noteworthy for actually being able to share a cute anecdote without everyone wanting to rip their ears out in secondhand embarrassment. He also has a good bounce with Seongwoo and an overall likable personality — definitely someone viewers at home would like to see win.

Thinking back on his day, Woojin tries to remember if this cannibalistic Park Jihoon was one of the few contestants he actually saw during a dry rehearsal this morning. Contestants come and go like the tides and Woojin doesn't really see the point of bothering to learn names unless they win.

The people trying to dethrone Sewoon are an objectively pretty young man he nicknamed Soft Boy and a scruffy, very broad man he cleverly calls Very Broad _._ He was too far away to see them clearly with just his eyes and wasn’t viewing them through the camera so he couldn’t zoom in and scope them out in more detail. It will be Sleepy Dude (Sewoon’s rookie nickname) versus Soft Boy versus Very Broad.

A loud voice speaks over the comm.  _“BOYS.”_

Ha Sungwoon. He’s their tough and sprightly media director who is no doubt holed up in the tech booth at the back of the set. “ _Don’t you two have anything better to do than gossip about the contestants?”_

He can also be a bit scary when he’s scolding you. Woojin actually ducks his head in shame. “Sorry hyung.”

Daehwi repeats the sentiment and Sungwoon barks out a laugh. _“No, no, I actually mean that. I mean what’s better than gossiping about them? Betting on them.”_

 _“You are NOT betting money on this, hyung.”_ Another new voice, this one smooth and sweet. Hwang Minhyun, lead panel judge known for his home-cooked lunch boxes and bubbling giggles. _“I think that might actually be illegal.”_

 _“We’re betting jelly beans, Minhyun-ah.”_ Woojin will bet a thousand jelly beans that’s a lie. _“That might be illegal in Candy Land but certainly not here.”_

The sarcasm runs thick but Minhyun finds the joke funny so he starts giggling. This in turn causes Sungwoon to laugh. There’s something soft and noble about Minhyun, a compassionate charisma that makes people want to do right by him. Even the naturally abrasive Sungwoon tends to use his 'nice voice' when talking with him. 

 _“One thousand jelly beans on Dongho to win.”_ Daehwi starts. An interesting choice, coming from him.

Minhyun, physically seated on Daehwi’s left, laughs with him. _“Two thousand on Dongho.”_

 _“Shit, do you two know something I dont? Whatever, someone has to root for the returning champion. Looks like it's me. 3500 on Sewoon.”_ Sungwoon is a knee jerk devil's advocate — unless of course you're a devil, in which case he'd already be the angel's advocate.

Woojin clears his throat. “Ten thousand jelly beans on Soft Boy for the win.”

There’s a pause before Daehwi manages to translate: _“I think he means Jihoon.”_

Those over the line all  _"Ahhh"_ in spooky unison.

Oh. Huh. That means Soft Boy is his fellow cannibalism sympathizer. He just bet his entire jelly bank on Park Jihoon the soft cannibal. No biggie. These are, after all, imaginary jelly beans.

At this moment Jisung enters the set with the three contestants (and Guanlin) in tow and the excited buzz of anticipation grips everyone in the room at once. Jisung leads them on a path that takes them right past Woojin as opposed to Cameraman 1, Kang Daniel.

There’s actual reasoning behind this: Daniel is a little better at capturing Seongwoo as he roams the stage and by contrast, Woojin prefers quick details and multiple subjects, making him the natural choice to film on the side closer to the contestant podiums. _Jeopardy!Korea_ is a well-oiled machine and it wouldn’t be half as successful if they didn’t play to individual strengths. They may tease each other and fool around but as soon as the first notes of the classic theme song start ringing through the set, everybody is ready to rock.

Jisung smiles to Woojin as he passes by but he’s more focused on leading Sewoon, followed by Jihoon (looking _very_ soft in a big, knit cream sweater and light wash jeans), then Dongho (somehow both broader _and_ scruffier up close) and finally Guanlin bumbling along at the rear.

It’s not necessary for the shots he needs to get, but Woojin starts recording anyway and zooms out slowly while panning right, managing to record the five of them making their way up the short steps to the stage and walking over to their podiums. Sewoon takes the champion's spot, with Jihoon in the middle spot between he and Dongho. Jisung is still chatting amiably with the contestants and soon Seongwoo lopes over to join in the fun.

A shift of motion and a sudden red light in his peripheral vision tells Woojin that Daniel has also started filming preemptively. Daniel is in charge of Seongwoo’s angles and captures him interact pleasantly with Sewoon, so Woojin instinctively focuses on everyone else. While Jisung chats happily with Dongho about something they both seem to know a lot about, Guanlin manages to make Soft Boy smile softly somehow. Curious, Woojin focuses more on the pair of them, zooming in enough to see Guanlin’s shameless grin and Jihoon’s red ears and raised eyebrows.

Oh? Did Guanlinie just make a contestant blush? Woojin zooms in further.

 _“One minute until go time.”_ Sungwoon alerts over the headset. _“Cam 1, you’re filming as though we don’t have years worth of Ong footage. Cam 2, I know Guanlin flirting is hilarious but spying on it is very VERY lame. Both of you get back into your starting settings.”_

 _“Sorry Hyung,”_ Daniel and Woojin chorus, abiding by his direction. 

Woojin and Daniel’s camera rigs may boast two view screens each, but Sungwoon is directing all media from the booth in the back, monitoring and framing the big picture based on video and audio input from at least twelve differing sources. It’s a lot but he still finds the energy to individually berate his cameramen. A true professional.

Still on stage, Jisung tenderly holds the contestants' hands in both of his own one by one, no doubt muttering heartfelt and individualized words of support to each. Guanlin is already halfway off the stage, but he waves cheerfully back at the contestants with a loud laugh and a double thumbs-up.

Seongwoo bids the contestants luck before gliding over to his illustrious podium and flipping through the contestant dossiers one last time. Woojin keeps his camera view where it’s supposed to be for the beginning of the show, but uses his own eyes to scan the rest of the set.

Guanlin and Jisung are now back in their seats a couple of rows behind Woojin, ready with water bottles and tissue paper and anything else the contestants and Seongwoo might need during the show. At the judges panel Daehwi and Minhyun and the other judges are all busily scanning through today's questions and answers for the game, tabs on tabs open on their laptops ready to cross reference answers and search for discrepancies. Sungwoon is already on point in the video booth with Jaehwan, who announces from there. Clearly Daniel is as good to go as Woojin at this point which leaves…

Bae Jinyoung, who just stumbled over his own boom mic cord somewhere behind the judging panel. Nice. At least Woojin’s favorite staff members are all accounted for, even if they do seem a tad unfocused today. But they all know as soon as Jaehwan bids the game to start their taboo-filled brains and wandering eyes will come together to form a fluid system of pure trivia entertainment.

The display screens on the individual podiums light up with each contestant’s name written in their own handwriting by the provided light pen. Sewoon’s he knows, with that clear and slanted penmanship. Next to him is Jihoon’s surprisingly cramped and boyish script and then the bold but oddly cute handwriting of Dongho.

Taking a deep breath, Woojin wraps the fingers of his left hand around the stabilization handlebar on his rig, and settles his right hand into the camera joystick. The handheld controls feel more _Mobile Suit Gundam_ than late-80s Atari joystick to him, and sometimes Woojin can’t help but feel like he’s manning a laser turret or aiming a ballista. That is, until he sneezes  _again._

Sudden enough to spook a good fifth of the audience, the classic _Jeopardy!_ theme song begins to blare throughout the set. Sure, they could merely add the music during post production but every member of the staff agree that they'rebetter than that — this experience isn’t just for the viewers at home, they have a studio audience to entertain as well as contestants to enthrall.

Somewhere in the middle of the intro song, Jaehwan’s loud, charismatic voice booms out.

_“THIS! IS! JEOPARDY!KOREA!"_

Woojin is ready to capture some history. He fingers his zoom dial lovingly, shifting his body weight to a different leg in preparation for his first panning shot.

_“Here are today’s contestants: Pottery studio owner and teacher, Kang Dongho!”_

A bit of an unexpected profession for a man of his appearance. Woojin has to hold back a laugh as he focuses on the sheepish Dongho for only a moment before moving on.

Already shifting focus to Jihoon, Woojin catches him nibbling his bottom lip, also trying to stifle a smile. _“Internationally ranked professional gamer, Park Jihoon!”_

 _What._ That’s what Soft Boy does for a living? That’s even _better_ than professional potter. Now that his exploits are being addressed by a disembodied voice Jihoon looks a little flustered. It’s very easy to spot his flushed skin against his light sweater and pale blonde hair.

_“Aaand, our returning champion: Performance and composition student, Jeong Sewoon!”_

He wonders what game (games?) Jihoon is ranked in. _Oh fuck,_ Woojin gasps, realizing he’s off by half a beat but somehow manages to cut to Sewoon before Jaehwan’s introduction of him is almost over.

_“Whose two-day cash winnings total ₩19,500,000!"_

Woojin can barely hide his scoff, very unimpressed by his mere 19 million over two days. And that’s a score of someone who got four out of the six Daily Doubles since being on the show. He’s seen a contestant get that much by less than half way into of Double _Jeopardy!,_ without any DDs.  

_“And NOW. Here is the HOST of Jeopardy!Korea! Ong. Seong. WOO!”_

True to form, Seongwoo emerges from backstage with arms outstretched and a knowing smile gracing his thin lips. The crowd reacts with much more energy to him than they had for the contestants and Seongwoo has to do the show host juggle where he both acknowledges his fans and also tells them to be quiet with small gestures.

Woojin can’t really help but cheer along and judging by the echoes over the staff channel, everyone else feels similarly. He looks over to the judging panel in time to see Daehwi nudge Minhyun in the ribs repeatedly with a shitty little grin. Minhyun blushes and turns to look at the stage stiffly, though even Woojin can see the tips of his ears are flushed red.

While Seongwoo prattles on with his partly improvised introduction speech, Woojin stares deeply into his monitor, beginning to dip into the videography flow that he enjoyed enough to make a career out of. When things get moving, Woojin doesn’t think, he records. The camera becomes his gaze.

A gaze currently drifting to Jihoon, capturing his quick, focused eyes as they dart around his surroundings. For a brief moment, his eyes meet Woojin's camera before jumping to the audience behind him, then back to Seongwoo, and then to the large screen with the  _Jeopardy!Korea_ logo. 

Jihoon takes a deep breath, holds it, and then lets it out. Woojin has to double check his monitor to make sure he actually has all three contestants in the shot, not just the cutie he’s betting ten thousand jelly beans on.

Woojin doesn’t even _like_ jelly beans.


	2. what are... headshots?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> won was a bad idea for the currency the numbers are so much bigger than they need to be nnnnghhh. please forgive the clutter.
> 
> look mom i wrote something lighthearted again

While the contestants on _Jeopardy!_ are all fantastically bright and knowledgeable people, rarely do they carry that cold, intimidating composure that often goes hand-in-hand with stupidly high IQs. In fact, if contestants were selected solely for their personal information repositories and mental processing speed the show would be a regular snoozefest. As in _Jihoon would rather be reading an actual history textbook-_ level snoozefest.

No one wants to watch a fast-paced trivia show where the front runner is, a) an unfeeling cyborg lifelike enough to pass as human, or b) a snotty mother fucker sleeping on a bed of degrees. And yes, while the show does sometime admit assholes and human-computers to try their hand at trivia, the majority of the contestants that make it through the application process are pretty much your textbook nerds.

These are the people Jihoon understands—these are _his_ people.

Like that one bartender who can list every nation’s capital with ease or that coworker who always hard-carries during trivia night. They’re the type of people you see in the grocery store, like that guy wearing a snapback with Aurebesh lettering, trying to determine what snack to bring to his MtG meetup.

And yes, the last example might just be Jihoon but that does support his case. Regular nerds with irregular retention and recall capabilities. His people.

If the viewers at home couldn’t see a bit of themselves in the contestants, if they couldn’t stretch a tendril of empathy towards Namjoon the Actuary or Sejeong the 4th Grade Teacher, they wouldn’t watch the show. It’s that simple. _Jeopardy!_ doesn’t target an audience of intellectually vicious PhDs. The intended audience is _regular people._

That’s why he auditioned for the show. For all his professional success Park Jihoon considers himself a perfectly normal person and sure, he may have an extensively curated mental repository of random information but it’s unquestionably suited for trivia as opposed to, say, graduating from college. He didn’t even finish his Undergrad degree (communication arts, yikes) like most contestants, and has no current intentions to finish the degree or return to higher education.

He’s clever, he’s witty, but the closest thing to ‘depth of knowledge’ Jihoon readily acknowledges within himself would be his penchant for building illegal MOPA and MMO macro configurations and calling people out on Overwatch lore. There have been a few times _Jeopardy!_ featured categories and answers that touched on video games but Jihoon isn’t about to fool himself into thinking his immersion into the gaming industry will help him at all.

Not like musical composition and pottery are any better suited, though rationally Sewoon has the advantage if only for the fact that there are more categories about music than ceramics and video games. And now that he’s actually thinking about it, his two competitors are probably closer to the _totally fucking normal_ style of contestant than he himself is.

Jihoon is a sort of-famous, sort of-public figure in certain circles. That’s probably why Ong Seongwoo (a fully-famous, fully-public celebrity in all circles) seems to be picking on him a bit more than the others.  

“So you make a living… playing video games.” Seongwoo deadpans. His interview with Dongho revealed the gruff man once made a vase that was bought by Miss Korea 2014, and now he turns to Jihoon with the slightest patronizing glint in his eye.

Maybe Jihoon is just being a bit more sensitive than normal, but that has more to do with his lingering celebrity crush on Ong Seongwoo than anything else. Also, Jihoon is a fucking contestant on _Jeopardy!,_ he’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be feeling whatever he wants.

Right now he’s feeling a bit criticized.  

It’s not like Jihoon hasn’t had to handle this sort of judgement before. His family, friends, hell, even his favorite barista has questioned his motives and lifestyle enough over the last two years for him to have a ready arsenal of possible retorts to the common displays of incredulity. “The estimated global revenue for the Esports industry is predicted to surpass ₩1 trillion by 2019—I’d like to get in on that, wouldn’t you?”

A surprised murmur ripples through the studio audience, but Jihoon forgives them for any ignorance. People underestimate the power of the professional gaming industry, and for the most part the _Jeopardy!_ studio audience looks old to be familiar with pong and not much else.

“I see… and it says here that you’re currently 7th on South Korea’s leaderboards for… what game?”

Jihoon looks out over the audience for a moment before quickly scanning over the judges panel of and lastly shooting what he hopes were confident glances at the two main cameras. “Overwatch. I… uh, specialize in McCree and Widowmaker.”

Jihoon isn’t sure but he thinks he hears one of the staff members—the handsome boom mic guy or maybe the nearest cameraman, he can’t tell—gasp at the reveal and Jihoon considers it a minor achievement. _Someone here has got to be a real player, the odds support it._

A small twitch in Seongwoo’s brow makes it obvious Jihoon didn’t expound enough and he opens his mouth to add more detail but Seongwoo beats him to it with an ice-breaking laugh. “What does that even mean, Jihoon?”

Well? “Headshots.” He summarizes with a wry grin.

Yep, Ong Seongwoo has no idea what he’s talking about and Jihoon finally feels ready to acknowledge the small bead of disappointment in his gut. He has to start picking his crushes better.

“Well, I’ll be rooting for you in your next tournament.” Seongwoo’s attention perfectly switches to Sewoon as though Jihoon ceased to exist as long as Seongwoo wasn’t looking at him. “And on to you, our returning champion. I heard you posted a BLACKPINK cover that YG actually... bought from you?”

Jihoon releases a quiet breath when Seongwoo’s attention drifts and realizes he’s been tapping his toe nervously this entire time. He actually stands on the offending foot with his other one to quell the anxious movement. Why does it feel like Jihoon can sense _everything_ right now? He feels the heat of the stage lights, hears the clicking of one of the laptop keyboards at the judge’s panel. _Too much outside stimulation, get back into your head._

There’s really nothing better than browsing your own brain when you’re trying to disassociate from your surroundings. Jihoon manages to tune out Sewoon and Seongwoo’s conversation within a moment of his first conjured fact: Mos Isley Spaceport in Star Wars Episode IV was filmed in Tunisia. Ong Seongwoo has a charismatic triangle of moles on his left cheek. The German anti-tank equivalent to the American bazooka was the panzerschreck. A group of larks is called an exaltation.  

He’s trying to recall the binomen of the microorganism responsible for the Great Irish Famine of 1845 when the cameraman nearest to him sneezes loudly, drawing his gaze towards him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. The stage lights are ultimately too blinding for him to see the staff member immediately, and by the time Jihoon turns back to his thoughts the potato famine answer is waiting for him.  

_Phytophthora! Phytophthora… infestans._ So he did _know_ it, but he couldn’t recall the information fast enough for _Jeopardy!_ clicker timing. Good to know his microorganism knowledge is buried a little deeper than his ornithology and WWII storage vaults. He’s come to understand the key to performing well on this time-dependent, trigger-happy trivia challenge is not in the retention of information but the timely recollection of it. Sure, he _knows_ the seven layers of the OSI model, but can he recall them in order in under 5 seconds? Most likely not.

Velociraptors had protofeathers. The first cat in space was a French tuxedo named Félicette in 1963. LASER stands for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. Copra is dried coconut meat.

“—t’s look at the categories for the first round!” Seongwoo announces and Jihoon emerges from his brain with a quick little gasp.  

The lights track downward and dim down enough for Jihoon to get a better look at the audience and judges panel but he avoids the temptation to scope them out. It’s go-time and he’s here to fucking win. He even really quite likes Sewoon and Dongho is intriguing but he’s here to destroy them and that's that. Jihoon's quick eyes scan over the six categories suddenly revealed on the main game screen once, twice, speedily ranking them in terms of his confidence in the subject matter.

_Rhymes with Brains_ seems the most up his alley, followed by _Ungulates_ and _Numbers as Words,_ and he even thinks he might be able to handle the ominous _Chart Toppers_ and _16th Century Literature_ might give him a hard time though, he’ll admit that. He doesn’t know jack shit about _Canadian Cities,_ but by the looks of things no one will excel in that.

“Reigning champ gets to choose the first category. What say you, sir?”

Sewoon shoots the crowd a lazy smile. “Why don’t we go with _Rhymes with Brains_ for 200,000.”

He does an inner fist-pump when the champion selects Jihoon's preferred category. Rhyming is just fun, and something his brain takes to very well. Then it hits him. _Holy shit holy shit I’m on Jeopardy! I’m on Jeopardy!, Ong Seongwoo is RIGHT THERE and I’m going to fucking win._

“All right, all right, let’s see the answer: _Also known as cyclones, typhoons, and tropical storms.”_

Somehow Jihoon is a sliver of a heartbeat behind Dongho, who manages to click in faster than he and Sewoon. “What are Hurricanes?”

“Very good, your turn, Dongho.”

Dongho asks for 400,000 in the same category.

_“The internal jugular ones drain your brain.”_

Sewoon beats them both this time. “What are Veins?”

“Correct!”

With a quick, quiet laugh, Sewoon gestures charmingly with his hand. “Same category, 6.”

_Come on Jihoon, you got this._ What is happening to him? He thought he had nailed the rhythm of the clickers in his audition and he had spend an hour last night practicing on a number of different clicky-pens. He takes a deep breath and spreads his legs a little, trying to find a different angle of stability.  

Seongwoo smiles brightly and clears his throat before reading the answer. _“Late, unlamented brothers Uday and Qusay. ”_

_Excuse me?_

Dongho is on it. “What are Husseins?”

Fuck. Jihoon knew that. Jihoon has known all of this actually. He takes a deep breath and holds it.

Predictably, Dongho does for 800,000.

_“The Super Chief and City of Salina are two of these._ ”

At least Jihoon isn’t the only fool this time around. No one clicks in and the three of them even exchange confused winces.

Seongwoo grins widely—Jihoon has noticed from watching a _shit ton_ of _Jeopardy!_ that Seongwoo really seems to like it when no one knows, the embarassing Triple Stumpers. It feels petty but Jihoon also kind of gets a kick out of the relatively rare occurrence. “What are _T_ _rains._ Back to you Dongho.”

“Well,” Dongho sighs and shrugs sheepishly. “Let’s finish the category, shall we?”

“Here we go: _All together now—they’re the choruses of songs._ Ah, Jihoon finally gets in!” Seongwoo looks genuinely pleased.

_What?_ Oh man, he somehow found the click rhythm on that one and beat the music boy in the process. “W-what are Refrains?”

Jihoon can’t help but smile widely, even before Seongwoo pronounces the answer correct. He’s still smiling when he lets out his breath. He’s in the lead, but barely.

“Let’s go with _Ungulates_ for 400,000.” Jihoon nods strongly with a wicked little tilt to his eyebrows. So yes he is being a bit greedy by skipping the easiest question of the category but… he is greedy. It’s his fatal flaw as a gamer—when he’s doing well he reaches too far. Still, nothing wrong with taking a bit of a risk with a category he’s confident in.

_“The females are called Nannies, while the males are known as Billies.”_

Jihoon feels like he perfectly timed this one and isn’t surprised when he gets it again. “What are Mountain Goats?”

“Correct!”

“Ungulates 6.” Jihoon calls quickly before adding, “Please,” as a hasty afterthought. Seongwoo gives him a reprimanding little grin.

“A flap of skin and fur called a bell hangs from the throat of this huge forest dweller.”

Boom, Jihoon is in again. Looks like the potter and the composer aren’t so savvy when it comes to zoology. _“_ What are Moose?”

The cameraman sneezes again, loud enough to actually interrupt Seongwoo, but the host plays it comical. “Uh oh, looks like our cameraman might be allergic to ungulates. Park Jihoon, correct! Let me guess, you’re going for 800,000?”

“Indeed.”

_"Horses and rhinoceroses are included of this category of ungulates."_

To Jihoon’s horror, Dongho’s reflexes are quicker than his own and by the smirk on his face he is certain of his answer. “What is Odd-toed?”

Things go downhill from there. Jihoon doesn't get any answer wrong but he doesn't get any first strike clicks in either. He sits at 2,000,000 won while Sewoon has a nice 3.5 million and Dongho owns the board at a rather impressive 6.5 million from somehow stumbling across the two Daily Doubles in the round.

He manages to recover some lost ground by correctly answering every one that Sewoon or Dongho got wrong initially, but by the end of the first round Jihoon is trailing Sewoon by half a million. They call a commercial break and Jihoon lets out his breath in one gush, collapsing in place and shaking his hair into his eyes.

They have about five minutes where the contestants can leave the stage for water or to get away from the lights and Jihoon eagerly takes advantage of this opportunity to hide for a bit and get his bearings. Sewoon—so light hearted and competent—remains on stage to chat with Seongwoo and Dongho also opted to come off stage and drain an entire bottle of water. It’s a little crowded off stage so Jihoon begins to gravitate towards an area with the most shadows and least amount of people.

It’s not until he backs into a cold metal rigging does Jihoon notice he’s accidentally encroached into the territory of the camera off stage left, the sneezing one.

“Uh…” Comes a voice from surprisingly close to him. Jihoon jumps and twists his neck to discover the cameraman fidgeting and blushing at him. “You’re kinda…” he indicates his space (as delineated by the neon yellow tape around the rigging, Jihoon finally notices) with a surprisingly fluid flourish.

Jihoon takes a quick step away, pivoting around to bow quickly at him in apology. “Ah, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, you can be here if you want. I... “ The cameraman winces and runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing.”

“Oh...kay?” Jihoon doesn’t really know what’s happening but he tries his best to get his bounce back. Time is running short and Jihoon realizes he hasn’t gotten any water yet. “I should—you know, water.”

Wow. Jihoon knows he isn't the best socializer but this is some really pitiful stuff. Luckily the cameraman doesn’t seem to excel in the people-talking department either. “Oh yeah go get it. Go get hydrated.”

“Yeah.” Jihoon turns to leave but the man calls to him quickly, drawing his attention.

“Hey, wait, can I…” The man has a roguish look about him, intensified by his tan skin and dark hair messy from the somewhat wonky placement of his large headset. As though he tracked Jihoon's gaze and grew self-conscious about his appearance, he hangs the headset around his neck and drags his bangs back off his forehead. 

Oh. _Eyebrows. Nice._ Jihoon nods pointedly at him to get him to continue but he only beckons him to come closer again, looking furtively around at Jisung, then over his shoulder at the judges panel and even over the audience to make sure nobody was paying this (whatever _this_ is) any attention. 

Jihoon moves closer, eyebrows raised.

“Some advice?” The cameraman offers with a small wince when Jihoon gets close enough. He looks sincere if a bit embarrassed. More determined than anything, which is an observation that Jihoon doesn't currently possess the mental bandwidth to address. His sharp eyes are looking everywhere but at Jihoon until finally he _is_ and suddenly Jihoon feels pinned in place. He manages to nod.

“When you’re clicking in, don’t use your thumb—use your forefinger instead." He mimes using the clicker with his pointer instead of his thumb. "It looks like you know most of these so…” The man shrugs and smiles through a blush. “You can—no, you should win this, so… go do it. With the forefinger.”

An odd silence lingers before Jihoon laughs once. “Why are you telling me this?” He tilts his head and asks simply, likely to take this advice to heart but wary of why it was given.

The man shrugs and settles his headset over his ears again, clumsily arranging the mic. “I… yeah I don’t really know. I’m rooting for you?”

Question mark? Jihoon raises an eyebrow at this but before he can open his mouth Jisung claps him on the shoulder and kindly shoves him towards the stairs that lead back on stage.

“Up you get, kiddo.” Jisung cooes. He chirps about confidence and _feeling_ the buzzer but Jihoon tunes out, nodding and laughing where appropriate before Jisung gives him a quick little hug and scampers off stage. It’s hardly the best way to inspire a person like Jihoon but it does manage to bring a small smile to his lips all the same. 

As he takes his place at the center contestant's podium, Jihoon takes a deep breath and cracks his knuckles with about five too many loud pops to be healthy. He looks over to Jisung’s corner and sees him and Guanlin shooting all of them hearts and thumbs ups. Casting his eyes slightly farther away, he focuses in on the strange, shy(ish?) cameraman and almost laughs when he sees he too is well-wishing.

He’s shooting a gesture of luck, but only to Jihoon, if the mimed forefinger-clicking says anything. Jihoon smiles and nods to himself before tuning inward to try to find that middle zone between active focus and subconscious instinct. If he can manage to center himself during live ranked tournaments while in worse straits, he can get his shit together for this. He just has to get the timing down first.   

“Okay contestants, get ready your steady and aheady we goo~oo!” Seongwoo chirps at them. It’s not a particularly TV-worthy line or anything but Jihoon and Sewoon both laugh despite themselves. It looks like their host pulls out the good stuff for the camera. “We’re back in five, four…”

Jihoon can’t really help but seek out the cameraman again and is not disappointed when he sees him leaning sideways from behind his rig so his head and torso are visible. He’s got a goofy little grin on his face as he counts down on his fingers with exaggerated but somehow professional gestures. He’s probably counting at Seongwoo, but for a moment Jihoon fancies that the attention is focused on him.

Then he inwardly balks over the fact that he wants his attention in the first place. Some nobody cameraman who gave him game advice and is apparently rooting for him. Maybe this is the downside of living a rather solitary existence—the fact that you seem to develop a little crush on anyone who pays you the slightest bit of special attention. Sheesh. 

The cameraman mimes a big _two, one,_ and then shoots a big thumbs up in time with the lights tracking up the stage. Once more Jihoon is completely blinded and blinks a few times rapidly before letting his face relax into a small smile.

“Welcome back to _Jeopardy!Korea,_ everyone. During the break you missed some clumsy but sincere backstage flirting and a heated argument at the judges table about the best seasonal candles.” Seongwoo starts strong and Jihoon almost chokes on his own tongue. That wasn’t _flirting,_ for fuck’s sake, and how would he even know that? That wasn’t even flirting anyway.  

That was friendly advice and support from a friendly and supportive dude.

Seongwoo rolls on fluidly, like the professional he is. “These slice-of- _Jeopardy!_ -life snapshots are a little incentive for you viewers at home to come enjoy the show from the slightly-uncomfortable chairs of our in-studio audience!”

The audience laughs but Seongwoo controls them quickly. “Well let’s not waste anymore time. Bottom of the board, Park Jihoon we will start Double Jeopardy! from a category of your choosing.”

This board looks a bit kinder to him than the last one and after a moment of deliberation he makes his choice with a sweet laugh. “Hah, okay, _Just Once Consonant_ for, hm, let’s make it 1,200,000.”

Greedy. But it’s time for him to believe in himself.

“Jumping straight up there, aren’t you? Let’s test your mettle then. _It's any variety of a color to dye for._ ”

Jihoon clicks in lightly with his pointer finger and lets out a little shout of victory when he gets in first. Okay, first test of the new strategy is a success. “What are Hues?”

“Right!”

“Push it to 1.6 million, please.” Jihoon shifts his weight between his feet and leans forward slightly. The cameraman sneezes.

“Ooh, someone’s pumped. Let's hear it: _A 'shy’, colorful karp."_

Jihoon is in again. “What is—are Koi? ” He calls brightly.

“Correct!”

Jihoon begins to burn it all down at this point. It was the clicker timing that had been getting in his way during the first round and now that he's learned how to hop that hurdle he takes the rest of the _One Consonant_ category as well as more than half of _If the Bees Were Gone_ and _Silicon Valley_ _._ Now that he has the technique down, nothing really manages to stop his brain-train.

That is, until Sewoon finds the remaining Daily Double and goes for a True Double. It’s almost inspiring to see someone actually go for it, especially someone so mild in action and appearance as Sewoon. Almost. Not today, obviously, because this gives Sewoon the change to overtake Jihoon and he can't do anything about it. 

Sewoon ends up getting it right with ease, putting Jihoon about 4.6 million behind. He’s holding a strong second now but he inwardly rages at having to recover ground in a situation where there are only two more tiles left with a grand total of 2.4 million between them. And no more Daily Doubles to change the game either. Jihoon gets one of the remaining questions right but time runs short before they can get to the final answer on the board.

Jihoon is a little more than 3 million behind Sewoon and a little less than 4 million ahead of Dongho. It will truly come down to Final Jeopardy.

“This game has gotten close: Jihoon dominating the middle only for Sewoon to spring that True Daily Double and take the lead. I love this. I live for this.” Seongwoo has a melodramatic hand over his heart but Jihoon believes he actually does live for this. “Jeong Sewoon leading at 15 million, Park Jihoon holding on at 12 million, and Dongho hanging in there at 8. Who knows how things will turn out, but let’s take a look at the category for Final Jeopardy!”

A jolt of panic rips through Jihoon and he’s pretty sure he visibly jumps in place because of it. There’s a strategy for Final Jeopardy!, for betting based on how much you and your competitors have collected so far but somehow Jihoon can’t seem to summon that information from the bowels of his brain and instead fiddles stressfully with the light pen at his podium. There will be the briefest of commercial breaks where stagehands (Guanlin and Jisung, most likely) will come up and secure blinders between the three contestants so they can’t cheat during Final Jeopardy. After that, this will be decided.

“Let’s take a look at what our contestants will puzzle over.”

There’s an obviously dramatic pause as the three of them and Seongwoo all look at the main screen, waiting for the small chime and presentation of the final boss.

Jihoon actually does laugh out loud when their fate is revealed:

_Aegyo._

There isn’t enough time for another short break like before so Sewoon, Dongho, and Jihoon remain in their spots, the three of them all going through their own processes of dissecting memory and information. Sewoon is mouthing words, occasionally shaking his head sharply, as though he was trying to flick his bangs out of his eyes. Dongho just takes deep breaths but this doesn’t really do much for the stern crease between his eyebrows.

Jihoon is quickly compiling a list of famous aegyo phrases, impacts, histories, and anything even remotely in the same ballpark as cute expressions and he makes it to _Shy Shy Shy_ when Seongwoo clears his throat. “Get ready, my friends. It’s time to get cute.”

He says this with all seriousness and Jihoon can’t help but giggle.

“We’re on in five, four…”

Jihoon takes a deep breath and repositions the light pen in his hand. The dividers have been set up properly (not like Jihoon was going to cheat in the first place) and before him is the screen on which he’ll write down some cute bullshit and win a bunch of money. And keep playing the game itself _,_ something he hasn’t felt the itch for until this moment right here.

“Let’s… see the answer: _Made famous in 2017 during a survival reality show, this phrase helped secure its inventor’s eventual debut in the eleven-member band Wanna One.”_

Holy mother of god. Jihoon totally fucking knows this. Everyone knows this, unquestionably.

The beloved theme song begins to sound through the large studio and a spooky hush falls over the already-silent audience. Jihoon tries to hold his expression as neutrally as possible, but there’s no question that some of his pure joy slipped through his pursed lips as he quickly jots down every word of the catchphrase.

He thinks he hears a little hum of success from Dongho, so Jihoon tentatively puts him into the _Probably Correct_ column but Sewoon has been completely quiet—Jihoon can’t even sense any movement from him.

The metronomic song continues on, reaching the swell of the flutes as the time slowly runs out.

Seongwoo claps once when the song comes to a close. “Alright contestants, time’s up. Let’s see what you have written down, starting from our gentle potter, Dongho.”

Smiling with a sheepish brightness that never fails to trigger Jihoon’s appreciation of dichotomy, Dongho nods for the techs to reveal his board, letting out a deep breath as Seongwoo reads it aloud.

“The question was about a powerful aegyo used last year, and you answered _nae maeum soge jeojang_ , and look you even added a little heart. That is… correct! And you wagered… a safe but meaningful 2 million, putting you still at third with 10 million.”

The audience cheers but hushes with a snap as Seongwoo turns to Jihoon. “And to you, Jihoon.”

_That’s right, save THIS in your heart._

“You answered… the same: _nae maeum soge—_ ” As Seongwoo gets to the killing part of the aegyo, Jihoon raises his arms and shoots the cameras (camera. singular.) an adorably perfect rendition of the hand motions but verbally finishes the phrase “— _jeojang”_ with the coldest, stoniest face he can pull.

The bit of comedy works well and even Seongwoo bursts out laughing at the action.

“And here I thought you were camera-shy, but I see you have some stage talent on top of all those video games.” Seongwoo winks at Jihoon, who breaks out of his brusque expression to wink back. “How much did we wager?”

All of it. Jihoon is in second place, he has all the reason in the world to go for broke.

“His entire bank: 12 million! A risk with a grand reward—you’re now in the lead with 24 million. But now we come to it.”

Okay, yeah, Sewoon is in the position to win and on top of that he’s too good at the game not to bet an amount that won’t completely shut out Jihoon’s chance to win. If he were smart (and boy, he is) he would bet something over 9 million just to be safe. Jihoon hasn’t exactly studied Sewoon’s playing style, having been far too focused on his own cramming to overthink his competition, but he has noticed Sewoon took his biggest risk recently, with that True Daily Double. He may be in more of a betting mood now bu—Jihoon stops these thoughts, sending them crashing together like an accordian. 

Sewoon’s bet amount doesn’t matter. He has to get it wrong for Jihoon to win.

“Okay, it’s down to you my friend. Will our reigning champion defend his title, or will Park Jihoon have another trophy to add to his gaming accomplishments?” Segonwoo wiggles his eyebrows up and down but wastes no more time dragging this out. “The question was about a particular aegyo from last year. Your answer is…  _Jeojang."_

What. WHAT. Wait. Some small part of Jihoon is very aware that everyone in the audience (and eventually sitting at home) can see his shock and elation but the rest of him is fighting a losing battle against jumping up and down and hollering so loudly his mom can hear him all the way in Masan. Jeojang, he says. What a stroke of luck. Is Jihoon's heart even beating right now? 

Technically that answer as incorrect as bbuing bbuing or imankeum. It’s as incorrect as god damn gguggu ggagga. It’s not the complete phrase as was required by the prompt.

Sewoon is incorrect.

Jihoon wins on a technicality and goes into a mild shock. _Won? I won. Dongho got second. Sewoon messed up. I won. I’m playing again. Holy fucking Megalodon._ He did that. His brain did that. And yes, he should probably go thank the helpful cameraman eventually for the clicker tip, but Jihoon brought this home. Next time, next game he'll do better from the start, win decisively instead of on a technicality. But right now? He revels.

_Come on Jihoon, rein it in. No one likes an asshole._ Jihoon's cheeks hurts from the splitting grin he’s still mostly numb to and eventually he realizes he’s fanning his face as well and stuffs the offending hand in his pocket to restrain his extraneous giddiness. 

That works for all of five seconds before a familiar voice cheers noisily through the gentle roar of audience applause, _“Hah! Way to go Soft Boy! Jellybe~eeans!”_

Jihoon doesn’t know what any of that means but he mimes the same clicker gesture the cameraman had taught him in hopes that he’s paying attention. Oh shit, he is. He returns the hand sign and Jihoon laughs to himself at the weird inside joke he seems to have made with a complete stranger. It’s been something of a day, winning _Jeopardy!_ and all that. Plus it looks like he's picked up an ally, perhaps by the power of his mid-game pouts of dejection alone.

One game down. Time to defend the crown. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he wins with a jeojang 
> 
> im all over the place with wips hahaa but who's going to say no to more of this romcom bullshit 
> 
> comment, kudos, bookmarks, and twt follows are pretty much the only things fueling me to write nowadays. case in point, someone yelled at me to update this in a comment and so GASP i actually did. behold the power of yelling at me.


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